Sound of Cicadas
by Mizu-Tenshi
Summary: It wasn't always painful. Akihiko/Takahiro/Hiroki friendship fic


What's this? Friendship? Gen? I know, but there's already so much romance that I thought a friendship fic would be a nice change of pace. Besides, I wanted to write this for a while. Of course, there will be hints of one-sided AkihikoxTakahiro and HirokixAkihiko...because it's canon. Set sometime during their university years.

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**The Sound of Cicadas**

XX

It was uncertain when Kamijou Hiroki began to love him more than a friend. It was uncertain when Usami Akihiko began to pine after one Takahashi Takahiro. Whenever it had started, no matter at what point in time, Hiroki always felt pensive when the three of them met up.

Though to the casual observer they were simply three friends hanging out, having a few drinks on occasion and complaining about life – this usually done by Hiroki, snidely commented on by Akihiko, and sympathised with by Takahiro in calming murmurs – Hiroki loathed to be the third wheel in anything.

Surely, he always thought, Akihiko would rather be alone with his precious Takahiro to pine and wallow in the glory of unrequited love.

Oh, he knew that feeling all too well. He was the only one who knew everything. The amazing air-headed Takahashi Takahiro would discover the meaning of life before he uncovered Akihiko's secret feelings and Hiroki himself would rather commit seppukku than tell Akihiko his own.

Thus it continued. The rainy days confined in a cramped bus shelter, covered only by a rickety wooden roof, which inevitably leaked fat droplets onto their already soaking heads. Nights in beer gardens, watching the lanterns attract moths and until the lights blurred when Hiroki would wake up at home in a tangled mess, remembering nothing.

It continued in the summers spent on the balcony of Akihiko's apartment, fanning themselves lazily, too hot to move their lethargic bodies in search of the last slice of watermelon. It continued in Friday night outings to old-fashioned ramen stands to eat steaming noodles whilst contending with the cold wind that blew the hair in their faces. It continued in the endless trudging through snow to get to this house or that house, in the boxes of take-out sushi and the rustle of leaves caught in their clothes.

It seemed as if it would last forever; this unending torment in which they spiralled towards each other, too precious to approach too close and yet too precious to leave.

Hiroki always resolved each day to leave Akihiko. He would move somewhere. Kyoto or Hokkaido, start a new job a new life, let go of his love and move on. He would tell Takahiro, spell it out in big fat letters so even the air-head would understand. Even it Akihiko hated him for the rest of his life, he would be happy knowing he had ended it all.

Yet each day passed and he neither moved away nor told Takahiro about Akihiko's secret crush. Each week there would be some excuse – usually propagated by Akihiko – to meet up and the cycle would continue.

On lazy summer days; the air too hot and the wind practically dead, as always they slumped on the balcony, amusing themselves with the cloud shapes in the sky. Too hot to say more than few words. Shirts left hanging open, shorts showing too much skin glistening with sweat. Open beer growing warm and the hum of a fan, rotating, rotating...

On lazy summers days such as those, as always, Hiroki said whatever came in to his mind first and Akihiko would snigger at him, countering with another remark until he got angry enough to spit watermelon seeds at the man and Takahiro would bravely intervene, laughing and crying out like a child. In their clumsiness, beer would inevitably be spilt; sticky, smelly beer. More watermelon seeds. A fierce volley of snide remarks and offhand quips, references to past stupidities and over exaggerated gestures.

The sun would bake them alive until, too tired fighting and laughing – mostly on Takahiro's part – he and Akihiko would call it a draw and slump down tiredly.

Thus it continued.

Over and over with Hiroki always 'forgetting' to move away to Kyoto or tell Takahiro about their friend's feelings. It continued. Those rainy days confined in a cramped bus shelter, moaning. Nights in beer gardens, pondering the meaning of life through the haze of drunkenness.

It continued in the summers spent on the balcony of Akihiko's apartment, listening to the chirp of cicadas. It continued in Friday night outings to old-fashioned ramen stands to eat steaming noodles and steal the last fish cake from each other's bowls. It continued in the endless trudging through snow to get to this house or that house, in the boxes of take-out sushi and the rustle of leaves caught in their clothes.

It seemed as if it would last forever; the unending moments in which they spiralled towards each other, too precious to approach too close and yet too precious to leave, and Hiroki, in that summer, would sleepily let his head drop onto Akihiko's shoulder or against Takahiro's back as the three of them were swept up in fatigue. They would lie there; Hiroki listening to their breathing and the song of cicadas serenading the electric fan, thinking; God, this is good.

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End.

AkihikoxTakahiroxHiroki would make an interesting threesome...if only Takahiro was gay. If the kink meme wasn't so dead, I'd request it. Anyway, I'm totally assuming Takahiro and Hiroki are at least somewhat familiar with each other in this fic but, you know, whatever works... Please drop a line and tell me what you think.


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